Mary'd
by ThyPenOrThySword
Summary: AU Mary/Marshall Much like her mother, baby Norah is a force of destruction, pure and simple. Brandi helps Marshall cope with the chaos at Ground Zero.


_A/N: It has been a while, and I am a true failure at writing regularly. But, here you are. A new piece of our favorite U.S. Marshals. A sort of continuation of When Mary Married Marshall, Mary'd takes place 6 months into the Mann marriage, as baby wreaks havoc on the the lives of the new couple. This story can stand alone, but please check out my other IPS stories. _

_Feedback is always welcome._

_Disclaimer: Not even remotely mine. Enjoy._

**Mary'd**

Marshal Marshall Mann stared at the destruction around him and didn't even bother to repress a curse. Clearly, he had been spending too much time around his partner lately. Reflecting on the bad habits he'd developed, he sent himself a mental memo as a reminder to try to fix them.

Who was he kidding? Letting all of his senses take in the sensations of the scene - oh, God, the smells - he admitted defeat. This time, there was truly no way to fix it. He was a finished man.

Dressed in a rolled up pair of her partner's cartoon sweatpants, Marshal Mary Mann entered the room, bundle of chaos strapped to her front in some sort of mechanism that had once been the object of much ridicule. In a war zone, everything is fair game, and no resource is too shameful to be utilized.

Mary paid no attention as her partner stood in the middle of her - damnit, their - living room with a mostly blank and yet somehow horrified expression of his face. It was so typical these days. Instead, she snatched her keys from the hook that Marshall had insisted on installing and, carefully dodging the pile of toys in her way, exited the house with two simple words: "Pie, Doofus!"

The door slamming pulled Marshall from his reverie and led him to sit down, where Brandi found him almost ten minutes later.

"Marshall? Are you home? Mary said I could stop by to look for my - oh my God. What the Hell happened, Marshall? Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

Still slightly dazed, Marshall looked up to meet his sister-in-law's eyes. "She went out for pie."

Brandi searched for some sort of hidden meaning in that statement that would explain what she was seeing. The living room floor was covered in toys and clothing. Something was glowing and playing a cheerful tune a few feet to her left, but it was muffled by one of Mary's shirts. The shirt looked, somehow, crunchy. The kitchen counter was covered in a variety of old take-out containers and jars of baby food. She could see a combination of more of those same containers and diapers in the trashcan that was quietly overflowing in the corner. That explained part of the smell, at least. Overall, Brandi thought, ew.

Concerned, she turned back to the man. "Marshall?"

He didn't respond, but seemed to suddenly take in all of his surroundings at once before returning to his daze. She searched for something to say.

"Did you know that lemons aren't just really ripe limes?"

Slowly, Marshall turned his head to stare at her, squinting slightly as if confused about her sincerity. It was a reaction, at least.

Uncertain of what to do, Brandi waited in silence until Marshall suddenly grinned, the expression seeming to split his tired face in two. "Marshall?"

He seemed to be looking past her. "Mary went to pick up pie. She called me Doofus."

Suddenly, everything became clear to Brandi. She released a long breath and then got Marshall some water in a glass that looked relatively clean. Ish. Letting him come to his senses, she started cleaning up what was apparently the result of a baby and two very tired working parents. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marshall suddenly sit up and attempt to straighten himself out.

"Brandi? What-" He placed the glass on the ground.

"Hey, Marshall. Welcome back." She hesitated before finding the courage to pick up the crunchy shirt and put it in a laundry basket.

"What-?"

"Just relax. I know what happened."

"Huh?" The normally verbose man found himself entirely without words.

"You've been Mary'd."

"Uh, yes. I have been married. For, um, five months now." He couldn't see where she was going with this.

"Six, actually, but not what I meant."

He seemed to be coming to his senses. "Then, what did you mean?"

Brandi laughed slightly. "You have been Mary'd. Not m-a-r-r-i-e-d, M-a-r-y-comma-d."

Marshall corrected her absentmindedly with a simple, "Apostrophe."

Brandi turned to face him slightly, still cleaning. "Geshundheit."

"That wasn't a sneeze. You should have said - nevermind." Marshall pulled himself to his feet and started helping Brandi clean up. How had he let it become this bad in here? He was normally so neat. Oh yeah. He hadn't slept in the past week.

"Whatever. Anyway, this is what Mary does. To you, at least. She sweeps in and out like a storm, leaving a pile of wreckage and confusion in her wake."

"Don't talk about Mary like that. All she ever does is try to help people and none of you - "

Brandi cut off his protest. "Not what I meant, Mr. Jumpy. Defensive much? Anyway, my point is, this is what Mary does. It's not her fault, chaos just seems to follow her around. Like a lost puppy . Or, me." Brandi shook off her last statement, not in the mood for self-reflection. This was far more fun.

"She makes your life messy, and you love it."

Marshall grinned again. "Messy."

The young blonde decided it would be better if she didn't keep trying to figure out Marshall's random statements. Clearly he was going insane, and she didn't need the headache. "Yeah. But, hey. You married her. You married her, and she Mary'd you."

He kept grinning at the pun. "With an apostrophe."

"Geshundheit. God, don't you people ever dust?"

Marshall just shook his head, marveling at the familial resemblance. The two kept cleaning for the rest of the afternoon, until night started descending and Brandi decided it was time to head home. As she left, she shouted back to Marshall, "Take a nap. You need it. Sleep deprivation is not good for your complexion."

And so he did.

Two hours later, when the streetlights kicked on to counter the darkness of the night, Mary's key turned in the lock, signaling the end of her far too long day. Carrying a brown paper bag full of pie, she turned to hit the light switch as she called, "Marshall? You home?"

Silence responded, and she looked around for an explanation as she unhooked baby Norah from the too-expensive carrier-wrap-thing and picked up an apparently freshly laundered blanket to wrap her in. She smiled softly as she saw a pair of large feet in socks hanging off of the edge of the couch. Moving to switch the pie from the counter to the fridge, she kicked off her shoes.

Mary kissed Marshall's forehead as she lifted up his legs to sit down with Norah. Looking around at the miraculously clean house, she muttered to herself, "And I thought pie was a good anniversary present."

Thankfully she didn't see the alarm on her husband's face as the newly awakened marshal realizes the date. As Mary leans back to drift into sleep, a single thought passes through her husband of six months' mind.

"Shit."


End file.
